imagine going over to ricky's house for a dime bag and he's just sitting there watching a video he recorded of a dead cat in a dumpster or something and he senses your presence and says "i watch this every day at exactly 3:41pm. it reminds me that i'm not alone in the world" and then he starts crying and you're just like "ricky... the weed"

Like many of their protagonists, the Coen brothers make films that aren’t always easy to love. Although a great admirer of the duo and their unique brand of cinema there are only a handful of their films that I truly adore and most of those took more than one viewing to appreciate. As such it might take me a while to decide where Inside Llewyn Davis sits amongst the rest of their work even if its undeniable qualities shine through…